


the insides were beautiful

by nightofdean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Body Horror, Character Death, Child Death, Chuck Shurley is God, Graphic Description of Corpses, Temporary Character Death, What-If, not really tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 17:44:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20643158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightofdean/pseuds/nightofdean
Summary: In a bid for immortality for her Coven, Rowena attempts a dangerous spell and successfully summons an ancient power. Blood ties become complicated when a bargain is made for freedom.





	the insides were beautiful

Within the crumbling cobbled walls of a once glorious Empire, now an occult Coven of witches’ chants to the star filled skies in a hopefully successful attempt to restore themselves to Power and Youth. Seven concentric circles of a dozen witches each spread out in the large stone room, the ceiling naked baring the stars above. In the nexus of the chanting hooded witches, is a young unconscious boy about ten years of age, a red-haired woman kneels over him finger tips rubbing blood red lines and circles on his face.

The woman is the leader of the Coven and always has been, gaining her position through respect and many years of schemes. Her hair drapes over the boy’s body as she paints the sigils that are required for the incantation to work. The slightest mistake would cost the entire Coven’s life.

A shift in air pressure is all she needs to know that it’s time. The woman stands and takes her place and begins. The chants’ speed up in intensity, but not volume. The leader of the Coven begins chanting, almost song like, coaxing the magic out of the ether into the container she prepared so carefully. The spell she is performing is delicate and old, extremely old. The book she pulled it from extremely temperamental and containing volatile spells but deciding to perform it anyway. The benefits far outweighing the risks. The power the spell promised too tempting. Her Coven would prosper for millennia after this.

The spell reaches its zenith, the air becoming thick, almost impossible to breath. She can feel it rising beneath the stone-work, rising to meet its container. The dead flesh of her ken, the spell called for the flesh and blood of spellcaster. A lot of it. And she did that exactly.

The miasma grew as the Coven chanted alongside her and as she neared the penultimate words that would seal the power within its prison. Her eyes alighted when she saw the body in the center twitch with false life, the words poured out of her and the witches voice rose as they spoke those words that would make them immortal.

+

The ancient power that would make Rowena immortal for a thousand more years and more powerful than Lucifer himself, was made prisoner. Rowena knew she had trapped something sentient when the dead boy spoke actual words. Not shrieking incoherence like what usually happened.

“What summons _me_?” It spoke, despite its appearance Rowena felt fear spike in her abdomen.

Rowena straightened her posture, clutching the jeweled failsafe she had, “I’ve brought you here, creature.”

“Creature?” Small chin pushed upwards, stepping forwards inches away from the seven concentric circles of holy oil. Rowena fingers turned into claws, magic crackling along her fingertips. Her mouth worked about to reply.

It responded first, “I am no _creature_.” Disdain dripped from those words. Shoe worn and battered stepped over the first barrier. “And no one summons me.”

Eyes a stunning blue pierced Rowena’s own, the dead boy’s eyes had not been blue before. They were a ruddy brown like her own.

The dead boy’s animated corpse swung its head, taking in the rest of the Coven, “What is this?”

Rowena nearly gasped at the question certain she should be asking the questions here but felt herself compelled despite herself, “This is my Coven.”

The boy’s eyes narrowed, “No. This.” and a small finger pointed at the walls.

Oh. Rowena felt cold realization flood her. This crea – no, Being – was…curious. “It’s an old British military post.”

The boy seemed to digest that for now, “Oh, that’s interesting I guess.”

And then it left the last circle and tried to leave. Immediately a furious expression broke out on its face.

“What have you done?” the stone walls shook, the thick miasma returned this time choking some of the witches, falling over, clutching necks in panic.

Rowena brandished her failsafe connected to her and the dead flesh of her ken. She activated it, Latin words, splitting down her throat.

The dead corpse’s body jolted as if shocked before turning its gaze on Rowena. Those piercing dead blue eyes.

“The spell. You used the book.” It spoke venom, but not lies.

Rowena met the hungry gaze of the corpse, still jolting from the spell she used. Its mouth curled into a hungry leer, eyes accessing.

“Humans are such wretched creatures.”

Rowena clutches the jeweled brooch, her lifeline to both the power she seeks and the blood in the Being’s container. She blocks out it’s crooning and cruel barbs, hitting so close to the chord in her soul. Rowena will not let her Coven down because a faceless nameless monster sees her for what she is. Rowena leader of her Coven will not back down from her mission.

Rowena speaks the words again and watches as the corpse jolts violently. Rowena’s Coven will prosper for millennia. 

+

Rowena is rewarded for her efforts, at a price. The corpse’s mouth smiles at her bloodily, her Coven already gone home, and tempts her one last time. A thousand more years for you and yours only, but only if you set me free.

Rowena hesitates, knowing deep within her that she could be making a deal with the devil or worse. That the rotting corpse before her could be lying, manipulating her, or it could be telling the truth. It, of course only wanted to be free, why would it lie about its power. No, that’s exactly why it would lie.

But she reasoned this was a chance, to fix her mistake. The Coven was beginning to look not as important, a millennium was seeming to appear to her as far too much time. A never-ending amount that would stretch on and on.

A rotting corpse the only reminder of her ken. Always there to accuse her – rightfully of what she had done, for more power.

Rowena’s hands clenched around the jeweled brooch, she took the offering.

+

When Rowena sees Fergus in Hell – as a demon – she nearly passes out as the memories of rotting corpses and bloody smiles assault her memory. She knew the entities deal had been foolish, with twisted wording and no promises.

+

When the Darkness is set loose on the world, she meets a Being she thought she would never set eyes on again. A pair of stunningly blue eyes pierce her soul and set her teeth on edge.

He is still wearing the rotting corpse of her ken, the brooch burns her breast.


End file.
